Sleeping Malfoy
by Boogum
Summary: It was like a fairy tale. Except the "sleeping beauty" was a pasty-arsed git, and all his saviour wanted was enough money to silence the whines of her inner pragmatist. Neither believed it was true love.
1. Chapter 1

This story was written for MyLadyElise for **_The DG Forum's_ _Fic Exchange - Winter 2016_**. It won the awards for Best Dialogue, Best Banter, and Most Humorous. Thanks to everyone who supported my fic. :)

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The muffin looked very tempting. It had big chunks of blueberries and chocolate, and it was sure to sit wonderfully in Ginny's stomach. The problem was that it cost six Sickles and seventeen Knuts. That was nearly all the coins she had in her purse. Plus, what she really needed right now was coffee. Her brow furrowed as she tried to calculate how much money was left in her account, just in case she could withdraw some Sickles to help tide her over until her next pay check. There had been the toothpaste she'd had to buy on the way home from work yesterday, the overdue rent bill that she'd forgotten all about, and then there was—

"Oh, who am I kidding?" Ginny muttered, sitting down at the counter table and staring morosely through the glass where all the pastries and muffins were displayed.

She was as broke as a house elf. Her life was a never-ending crossroad of "to be pragmatic" or "to be impulsive and later starve". There was no in between. She could either have the muffin and all its bundle of deliciousness or she could do the responsible, adult thing and wait to buy a loaf of bread, which would cost less and last for a week instead of one minute. Gods, Ginny hated doing the responsible, adult thing. She just wanted to eat something tasty and chocolatey and not— _not_ —a bland, boring sandwich. She was sick of sandwiches. And cereal. And pretty much everything that came cheap and lasted more than one meal.

"I should have been born rich," Ginny mused, resting her chin on her hand. "All of my problems would be solved then."

The man behind the counter shot her a frowny glance. Something about her demeanour must have pinged on his "This Customer is Potentially Crazy and Probably Wasting My Time" radar, because the smile faded from his eyes and he leaned his elbow on the counter in a business-like manner. "You gonna buy anything, Miss?" he asked.

Ginny sighed and sent a silent farewell to the muffin that had caught her fancy. "Just a regular coffee, thanks."

She pushed a few coins towards him, even as she ignored the screams of her inner pragmatist that swelled up in full Greek Chorus to tell her to just drink water _("WATER IS FREE, GINNY! FREEEEE! THINK OF ALL THE CRACKERS YOU CAN BUY WITH THAT MONEY!")._ Stupid inner pragmatist. It never let her enjoy anything. Not even a much-needed cup of coffee at 6:00am in the morning.

"And I don't even like crackers," she muttered.

Counter Man gave her another frowny glance. He placed the cup of coffee in front of her much as one would a slab of meat in front of a ravenous dragon. Not that Ginny noticed. She was too busy lamenting her impoverished situation and inhaling all the scents of food that she could not afford, as if by sniffing she might get a taste. It was sad and pathetic, but then she had become rather sad and pathetic. Her dream to be a famous Quidditch player had never come to fruition. She'd attended try outs for several teams, but no one seemed to want to recruit her.

"You're good," they'd say. "Really good."

But she'd still hear their unspoken words. She just wasn't good enough.

Sometimes, Ginny wondered what would have happened if she had stuck with Harry. Everyone had wanted to know her when she was "Potter's Girl". The tabloids had been all up in her business, determined to discover everything about her and her relationship with the Saviour of the Wizarding World. But then she and Harry had broken up, and it was as if a light had switched off. Harry had continued to take the foreground, moving in the limelight that society freely offered him, while she had been left to fade into the background.

Potter's Girl might have got accepted into a national Quidditch team for the sake of increasing publicity, but plain old Ginny Weasley was a different story. As one reporter had hinted, Ginny was not prone to scandals, could not be considered an important war hero since she had been just one of many students attending Hogwarts the night You Know Who was defeated, and she wasn't even that pretty. In short, Ginny Weasley was unforgivably ordinary.

And now she worked at Jolly Witch Cleaners.

Ginny tugged distastefully at her bright orange work uniform. It clashed with her hair and stunk forever of cleaning potions, but it was a job. If there was one thing Ginny did pride herself on, it was her independence. Put simply, she hated to have her life dictated by other people. She didn't want to be babied, and she didn't want to rely on others. In her heart, there was a witch who wanted to prove to the world that she wasn't weak: that she didn't need others to hold her hand just because she was female, the youngest of her family, or had been possessed by an evil wizard as a child. She would be just fine on her own, thank you very much.

So, two years after she had finished school, Ginny had packed her bags and moved out of home. Her family had resisted the decision at first. Molly had been particularly vocal in her disapproval, but eventually the Weasley matriarch had realised that Ginny was not going to back down. Some things just had to be done. Granted, living pay check to pay check and being threatened by the landlady every odd week wasn't the best situation (it was pretty stressful, to be honest), but Ginny was optimistic that it would all work out in the end. Constant perseverance and all that. She'd get her big break, and then she could eat all the tasty muffins that she wanted.

A pleased smile curved her lips as she imagined herself as an internationally famous Quidditch player. Her fantasies usually featured her as the star Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies (her favourite team). Of course, the crowd would be wowed by her general amazingness and superb flying as well. Fantasy Ginny was pretty damn fantastic, if she did say so herself. That girl broke a whole tonne of records.

Ginny's smile widened. She took of a sip of her coffee, forgetting all about her food lamentations as she got lost in her dreams for the future. As she lowered her cup, one of the customers bumped into her arm. Coffee spilt from the jolt and splattered on her uniform and the newspaper that had been resting on the counter near her elbow. Her eyes widened in shock.

"I'm sorry!" the customer exclaimed, reaching for a napkin to clean the mess. He looked about sixteen and had a bad case of acne. He was also very flustered.

Ginny repressed a sigh. What a way to be awakened back to reality. "Don't worry about it," she said, forcing a smile. "I got it."

A flick of her wand and the spilt coffee was gone. The boy apologised again, but she just waved him off and repeated that it was nothing. Really. She would manage just fine. Smiling sheepishly, the boy continued to the counter and ordered a drink and some food. Ginny noticed that he could afford one of the tasty muffins. Stupid, pimply faced oaf.

 _Don't be mean, Ginny_ , she inwardly scolded.

The boy might be a clumsy idiot and had ruined her coffee (" _Think of the crackers you could have bought with those Sickles and Knuts!_ "); he might even have the gall to eat delicious-looking muffins in front of her, but that did not mean she should take her frustration out on him or make fun of his acne, however privately. Ginny was better than that. Or so she told herself.

A sigh escaped her lips. She glanced at her cup, which was practically empty from the spill. That was when she noticed the headline on the paper.

"Malfoys Pay Millions to Find Cure," Ginny mumbled.

She frowned and scanned the article. Her eyes widened the more she read. It seemed that Draco Malfoy had been cursed with one of the most ancient (and very, very forbidden) spells in all of Wizarding history: the Hundred Year Sleeping curse. A spurned lover (name suppressed) had crashed his engagement party and cast the curse to get revenge. Malfoy had instantly fallen asleep and had not woken since. His very distraught fiancée, Astoria Greengrass, and the Malfoys had been doing everything in their power to remedy the situation, but without any luck. The spurned lover remained in custody and was on trial, yadda, yadda—

Ginny skipped the rest and instead spread the paper to stare at the picture beside the article. It was a black and white photo of Draco Malfoy asleep in what looked like some kind of fancy hospital room. Healers moved around him, glancing at charts or checking his condition. Malfoy himself was still, like a doll frozen in time. It was unnerving. He should be scowling or smirking or at least doing something. He was not supposed to be emotionless like that, and the way they had styled his blond hair was stupid as well. One of those pompous comb overs.

Actually, maybe it did suit him. He'd always been a bit of an arse.

Ginny's mouth twitched into a grin, but she sobered a second later. Much as she disliked Malfoy, it was difficult not to feel pity for him. They hadn't had much to do with each other after the war, but she'd heard that he'd turned over a new leaf and had been doing quite well for himself. He'd even got engaged to Astoria Greengrass, that nice Slytherin girl who had once helped Ginny find Neville's toad.

"Poor girl," Ginny murmured.

It must have been a shock for Astoria to lose her fiancé like that after they had just got engaged. From the looks of things, it didn't seem like Malfoy was going to wake up any time soon either.

Ginny stretched her arms and, as was typical for the uninvolved, shrugged off the matter as just another sad news article. Malfoy's condition had nothing to do with her. She wasn't about to spend the rest of her day brooding over it. Instead, she drank what was left of her coffee and headed for her next job. One hour later of scrubbing, wand-waving, and an almost-tragedy when she knocked over some potions and created a mini mushroom of toxic fumes, Ginny was at last able to celebrate her freedom.

"Thank Merlin," she breathed, rolling her shoulders to ease the aches in her muscles.

Magic made cleaning a lot easier, but there were some things that still required manual labour. After all, that's what places like Jolly Witch Cleaners had been created for: all the jobs magic folk had to do but refused if given the choice. That, and the fact that house elf protection groups (led by one Hermione Granger) were making it rather difficult for the rich and lazy to use servants who required no pay.

Ginny smothered a yawn and made her way towards the Disapparation point. She was just about to raise her wand when a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

"Ginevra Weas—"

"Kyah!" Ginny lashed out at the person with her fist, forgetting all about her wand as primal instinct took over. "Let go!"

The man groaned and placed a hand to his nose, which was spurting blood everywhere. Unfortunately, even a punch to the nose wasn't enough to make him loosen his grip.

"Please," he said in a thick voice (it came out more like "pweeb"), "you've got the wrong idea. Just let me explain."

Ginny pursed her lips and stared at him through narrowed eyes. He was a large man with sandy hair and a pleasant enough face (once you got past the blood). He didn't seem overly scary, but looks could be deceiving, and there was a fact that he was still gripping her shoulder so that she could not vanish without him.

"Let me go," she repeated.

"Do you promise to listen to what I have to say?" he asked.

Ginny's teeth flashed in a smile. "Sure."

The man released his grip and stepped back to give her some space. Ginny's grin widened.

" _Stupefy!"_ she bellowed.

The red light burst from her wand and hit the man square in the forehead. He keeled over like a log, landing spread-eagle on the ground. There was no further movement. Ginny cackled and did a little fist pump.

"I can't believe you fell for that," she said. "As if I was ever going to listen to a creeper like you."

The man, quite naturally, had no response. Ginny waved at him in a smug goodbye and then vanished with a pop. She had originally intended to head straight home for a nap, but the need to share the story of Mr Creeper had her appearing outside her brothers' joke shop instead. It was only as she was talking to Fred and George that she realised she probably should have alerted the authorities so the Aurors could collect the man.

"Wait, so you just left him—" Fred began.

"Even though he knew your name and had obviously come to find you?" George finished for his twin.

Ginny chewed on her bottom lip. She and her brothers had gathered in the back room of the shop and were sitting on the crates that had been piled up against the wall. "Uh, yeah," she said, hanging her head.

Fred and George heaved an identical sigh. "Ginny," they said in unison, placing a hand on each of her shoulders, "you're an idiot."

Ginny moaned in agreement and covered her face with her hands. "What am I going to do?"

George rubbed his chin. "How long has it been since you left him on the street?"

"I dunno," she admitted, raising her head. "A few minutes, I guess."

"The spell has probably worn off then," Fred said, dismissing the option of going back to investigate the spot.

George made a humming sound at the back of his throat. "Well, I guess you'll just have to talk to the Aurors and inform them of the situation. No harm done. The important thing is that you're safe." He rubbed her head. "Good going, Ginbug."

Ginny scowled and tried to smooth the bird nest he had created with her hair. "Can you _not_ treat me like I'm five," she complained.

Her brothers just grinned and continued to mock her in their tag-teaming way. Eventually, Ginny had enough and stuffed Canary Creams down both their throats. There was a pause, two squawks, and then man-sized canaries suddenly appeared where her brothers had been sitting.

"That'll teach you," Ginny said smugly.

She sashayed out of the back room and headed for the shop's exit, leaving the feathered twins to squawk expletives at her. The door opened before she could reach for the handle. Ginny's eyes bugged as she found herself staring at the sandy-haired gentleman from earlier. There were tissues stuffed up his nose and traces of blood on his face and robe.

"You!" Ginny cried, pointing her finger at him.

Mr Creeper held his hands up in an appeasing gesture. "Miss Weasley, please just listen. I don't mean you any harm."

Ginny raised her eyebrow. She was tempted to just hex him again and be done with it (only this time actually alert the Aurors), but curiosity got the better of her. Twice now the man had sought her out (even if it was in a stalkerish fashion). It was also true that he hadn't tried to hurt her on either occasion, only requested that she listen to what he had to say. She supposed it couldn't hurt to give him a minute of her time.

"Fine," Ginny said, folding her arms across her chest. "Explain."

The man opened his mouth to respond, only to freeze as two giant canaries walked out from the storage room and took up a flanking position behind Ginny. "Uh," he said, blinking a few times. It didn't help that the canaries were giving him menacing looks.

Ginny waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Don't mind them. They're just my brothers."

"R-right," the man said, eyeing the canaries in wonder. He turned back to Ginny, clearing his throat as he pulled himself together. "First, I want to apologise for earlier. I didn't mean to frighten you."

Her expression soured and she tapped her foot on the ground. "Get to the point."

"Very well," the man said. He fished around in his robe pocket and pulled out a card that certified him as a private detective. "Henry Larkins is my name. You may have heard about the Malfoy case?"

She furrowed her brow. "The Hundred Year Sleeping curse one, right?"

He nodded. "My client has been very anxious to find a cure. Our research has shown us that you might be able to help with that."

Ginny's jaw dropped. "W-what?"

"More specifically," the detective continued, "we believe you have the ability to wake Draco Malfoy from this curse."

Her eyes bugged open even wider. She made a few spluttering sounds and told him that he was being ridiculous, among other such sentiments. There was no way that she could break an ancient curse like that.

Detective Larkins slipped his card back in his pocket. "I understand this is a lot to take in, but it will all make sense once you meet with my client. I'm afraid, due to confidentiality, I can't disclose more than that for now." His gaze locked with hers. "So, will you do it?"

Ginny didn't get a chance to respond. There were two squawks and then her brothers shed their canary feathers and were human once more. In one fluid motion, they had their arms around Ginny's shoulders and were grinning up at the detective.

"Is there payment involved?" Fred and George asked in unison.

Detective Larkins nodded. "I believe my client is willing to offer a large sum of money in return for Miss Weasley's help."

The twins' smiles widened like the Cheshire Cat. "She'll do it."

* * *

 **Elise's Prompt (2)**

 **Basic Premise:** D/G re-imaging of Sleeping Beauty. One of them falls under a magic spell and can only be awakened by true love's kiss (which of course is either Draco or Ginny).

 **Must-Haves:** Fred is alive. Post-Hogwarts.

 **No-No's:** too must angst, previous dg relationship, Trio bashing

 **Rating Range:** any

 **Bonus Points:** 1) Draco is the Sleeping Beauty; 2) Ron faints at an inopportune moment


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny shifted on the rosewood chair and tried not to feel intimidated by the overt elegance of the parlour. The décor was done in creams and soft whites; the only touches of colour were from a few paintings and a fresh bouquet of flowers. Ginny had never felt so out of place. She was conscious of the fact that she was still wearing her orange work uniform; it made her feel like some garish bit of tinsel. Narcissa Malfoy's periodical nose scrunches weren't helping matters either. The woman looked like she was fighting off a bad smell. Snooty old cow.

" _You're the one who invited me,"_ Ginny wanted to say, along with much less flattering things that may have included telling Narcissa to shove her teacup where the sun didn't shine. As it was, Ginny bit her tongue and instead forced a smile.

Merlin, this was the pits. She knew that she should have put up more of a fight when Fred and George said she'd go with Detective Larkins to meet his client. It was not in her nature to let people make decisions for her. However, curiosity had got the better of Ginny. The thought of getting a large sum of money had been awfully tempting as well (it would at least silence her inner pragmatist). So, Ginny had allowed Detective Larkins to take her to his client for a full rundown of the situation. Oh, how she regretted that decision now.

Ginny had not been surprised to discover the client was Narcissa Malfoy. She was surprised, however, to learn that Draco Malfoy had already been asleep for two months (the fact that the news was kept from the tabloids for so long was a feat in itself). Oh, and that she was supposed to kiss him in order to wake him up.

"You're kidding, right?" Ginny said, looking between the detective and the blonde as if waiting for one of them to laugh.

"I would hardly joke about this," Narcissa said coolly. "My husband and I have done everything in our power to find a cure for this curse. We have hired curse breakers, magic researchers, Unspeakables, diviners, and detectives. Millions have been spent, Miss Weasley. All we have been able to discover is that True Love's Kiss is the only power that can save our son." Her nose did that little scrunching thing again. "And you, it seems, are my son's true love."

Ginny blinked. Then she blinked some more. Then she burst out laughing. "No, really," she said, wiping tears from her eyes. "This has to be joke. Draco Malfoy as my true love? That's rich."

Narcissa did not bat an eyelash. "I see nothing amusing about the situation."

Ginny swallowed back her giggles. Merlin's balls, this woman was actually serious.

Detective Larkins leaned forward in his chair. "It was a team of diviners and Unspeakables who pinpointed you as a candidate for Draco Malfoy's true love," he explained, perhaps sensing that Ginny wasn't ready to get off the Sceptical Express. "There were a few other women on the list as well, but they failed to break the curse."

Ginny's brow furrowed. "So, wait, are you saying that I'm the last one?"

Narcissa nodded. "We will be back to square one if this fails."

The redhead's frown deepened. Much as she still had her doubts about the whole True Love thing, it was obvious that Nacissa Malfoy was willing to try anything to get her son back on his feet again. Perhaps it was the older woman's only saving grace; Narcissa was stiff and unpardonably frigid (she had, after all, made Ginny sign a contract of silence before they had even got to Operation: Snog Comatose Malfoy), but there was still the heart of a loving mother beating inside her chest. Still, Ginny couldn't help but wonder.

"What does Astoria think of all this?" she asked, scratching her chin. "I mean, her fiancé is basically getting kissed by random women. That can't be fun."

Narcissa's lips thinned. "Miss Greengrass has already called off the engagement, though the news hasn't been made public yet. Naturally, she was the first to try breaking the curse when we learned that True Love's Kiss might be the answer." 

"Ouch," Ginny said in sympathy.

Poor Astoria. She must have been mortified when the power of her kiss couldn't wake Malfoy. What a way to learn you weren't your fiancé's true love.

The blonde gave an elegant shrug. "It was Miss Greengrass's choice." She picked up the folder that lay on the table between them. "In any case, that is neither here nor there. Will you try break the curse or not?"

Ginny made a humming sound at the back of her front. "I just gotta kiss Malfoy, right?"

"That's right," Narcissa said, and removed a slip of paper from the folder in her hands. "Of course, there will be payment."

Ginny took the cheque. Her eyes bugged a little. Five hundred Galleons! Sheesh, Detective Larkins wasn't kidding when he said Narcissa would be willing to pay a large sum. Although, Ginny figured most of that gold was going towards the whole "sworn to secrecy" thing. It would look bad if the tabloids discovered the Malfoys were getting random females to snog their son in the hopes he would wake up. Just thinking about it made Ginny want to giggle.

"Alright," Ginny said with a shrug. "I'll do it."

She doubted her lips carried the magical wonders to break Malfoy's curse, but if all she had to do was kiss him to get five hundred Galleons, then heck. Sign her up! It wasn't like one little kiss was going to kill her.

Narcissa let out a small breath of relief. "Very well. I'll take you to my son now."

No dillydallying for Narcissa Malfoy. Not that Ginny minded. She was just as eager to get the matter out of the way (and get her hands on a nice pile of gold. Already, the delicious muffins from the café were calling her name). So it was that the three of them left the parlour and made their way through the manor to the makeshift hospital room where Draco Malfoy was being treated.

"In here," Narcissa said, opening the door.

Ginny walked to the bed and peered down at the sleeping blond. Magic had been used to keep Malfoy's body in good condition, allowing him to escape the emaciated look that usually went with comatose patients. His cheeks were a healthy enough colour (he'd always be a pasty-arsed git) and his silvery-blond hair looked soft and clean—not stringy at all. She couldn't help but note that his face had lost some of the rat-like quality from his school days. Chin and cheekbones were still sharp, but he had grown into the angles. He actually looked quite handsome, albeit in a doll-like way. Everything about him was too still. There was no emotion and no life.

Merlin, it was going to be like kissing a dead fish.

"Uh, so I guess I just go for it?" Ginny asked, casting a glance back at Narcissa and the detective.

Narcissa's nose did the scrunching thing again. If the blonde were a less reserved person, no doubt she would have made a snarky response. The detective just placed his palm against his forehead.

"I'll take that as a yes," Ginny said. Geez, these people could cut her some slack. They weren't the ones about to get their creeper on.

She clenched her hands into fists and moved closer to the bed. Right. Time to steel herself and do this thing! Don't think about the fact that Malfoy was unconscious (ew) or that it was Malfoy at all (double ew). Just suck it up and plant one on him!

"Here goes nothing," she muttered.

Puckering her lips in a half-cringing way, she closed the distance between her and Malfoy. His lips were chapped and unresponsive. There was nothing nice about the kiss. No sparks—magical or otherwise—and no reason for her to prolong the contact. It really was about as good as snogging a dead fish.

Then he moved.

Ginny froze. It had been the slightest motion from the blond—more a hitch of breath than anything—but it was _something._ She pulled her lips away. His eyelashes fluttered against his cheek. A second later, grey eyes met her widening gaze.

"Oh, shi—" Ginny began, only to get cut off.

Apparently, Malfoy didn't like it when he got woken up to find a Weasley inches from his face, even if she was his true love. He flung his arm out with a yelp and knocked her right onto her backside. She bit her tongue from the impact and spent the next few seconds cursing in a way that would have made Narcissa do the scrunchy nose thing had the blonde's attention not been absorbed with fussing over her son.

"Draco, please calm down," Narcissa pleaded, reaching for his hands. "I can explain everything."

Malfoy shrugged away from his mother's touch and pointed an accusing finger at Ginny. "What the hell is she doing here?" He swished his head from left to right, taking in the collection of magical equipment and monitors. "In fact, where the hell am I?"

"You're in your house, idiot," Ginny responded, getting to her feet and rubbing her bum (that was bound to leave a bruise). "You're welcome, by the way."

He blinked. "Huh?"

Detective Larkins stepped forward. "Mr Malfoy, is it possible that you don't remember anything?"

Malfoy's brow furrowed. "I don't know. Everything is hazy. I feel like something might have gone wrong at the engagement party, but—" he trailed off and ran a hand through his hair, messing up the silky strands.

Narcissa sat down next to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Darling, you were placed under the Hundred Year Sleeping curse. You've been asleep for two months."

His eyes widened. "Two months?"

She nodded and explained how he had ended up in his condition. By the end of the account, the colour had drained from his cheeks and a muscle ticked in his jaw. Ginny had to admit that she felt a bit sorry for him. He'd just learnt that he'd lost two months of his life—not to mention his fiancée—thanks to an obsessive woman who'd been unable to accept his engagement. That had to suck.

Malfoy's nose suddenly scrunched in a way that was reminiscent of his mother, only it looked much cuter on him (not that Ginny would admit as much aloud). "Wait a minute. Does this mean Weasley is supposed to be my true love?"

There was a pause as everyone turned to look at the redhead. Ginny jutted her chin. Yes, she was wearing a vibrantly orange uniform that stunk of cleaning potions. Yes, she didn't have the best curves in the world, was on the short side, and had enough freckles to form a freckle colony on her body. That said, even if she could nevercompare aesthetically to Miss I'm-So-Pretty-And-Proportioned Greengrass, Ginny would be damned if she'd stand there and let these people judge her as if she was some faulty creation that had been dumped on their laps.

"Hey!" she snapped, planting a hand on her hip and pointing her finger at Malfoy. "You don't get to look at me like that! I just saved you from sleeping for the next hundred years, you obnoxious prick, so you can take those judgy little looks of yours and shove 'em up your arse where they belong!"

Narcissa made a small sound of outrage. "How vulgar."

"Yeah, maybe I am vulgar," Ginny retorted, raising her chin even higher. "At least I'm not a conceited twat."

Malfoy raised his eyebrow. "Sounding pretty judgy there yourself, Weasley."

"I don't care," Ginny said mulishly. "You're a git, and you're an even bigger git if you think you have the right to criticise me just because some spell says I'm your true love." She let out a derisive snort. "As if I even want to be _your_ true love."

Malfoy clenched his jaw. "Well, that settles it then," he said, turning up his nose, "because I don't want to be your true love either."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Fine."

"Fine," he echoed, mimicking her action.

There was a long pause as they both avoided looking at each other. It was as if they were having a competition to see who could maintain a state of haughty, dignified silence the longest.

Detective Larkins cleared his throat. "Uh, regardless of how you feel, it is a fact that you are each other's true lo—"

"Shut up!" Ginny and Malfoy said in unison. Then they glared at each other.

"Don't copy me!" Ginny said, jabbing her finger at him.

"You're the one copying me!"

"Am not!

"Are too!"

"Am n—"

Draco made a frustrated sound and threw his pillow at her. Ginny's eyes widened.

"Did you seriously just throw a pillow at me?" she demanded.

He pouted in a decidedly sulky way. "You were being annoying. Plus, I don't have my wand."

"So you threw a pillow at me? What are you, twelve?"

Narcissa just sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Draco, I know you're upset, but do try to have a little restraint. You're embarrassing yourself."

"I don't care," he said, pouting even more. "I just lost two months of my life because of some stupid curse, Astoria dumped me, and now I have to deal with the fact that this—" he pointed at Ginny "—this _thing_ is my true love."

Ginny's cheeks flamed. "What do you mean ' _thing'_? I'll have you know that—"

"Yeah, yeah. You saved me and now I need to respect you, blah, blah, blah."

She puffed out her reddening cheeks. "You are such a brat!"

Malfoy crafted an expression of aloofness. "At least I'm not a gold digger."

Ginny choked on her own phlegm. She thumped her chest to stop her coughing fit. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he said, meeting her gaze. "The only reason you kissed me at all was because you wanted the money, right? It's not like you cared whether I woke up or not."

"You—that's just—" Ginny spluttered some more and then picked up the pillow from the ground and threw it back at him. "Gah! You don't know anything!"

Detective Larkins scratched his chin. "If I remember correctly, your brothers—"

"Shut up!" Ginny and Malfoy snapped, rounding on the detective again.

"Why are you even still here?" Malfoy demanded, raising his eyebrow at the older man. "The matter has been solved. Case closed. You're just—"

"Draco," Narcissa said warningly.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but he didn't say anything further. Instead, he hugged his knees to his chest and stared off in the other direction. The Epic Sulk was on. He looked like a little kid who'd had his favourite toy taken from him. It was kind of adorable, actually (if in a petulant, ye-gods-Malfoy-was-so-annoying kind of way). All Malfoy wanted was to be rude to the detective, but Narcissa wouldn't let him.

"You are such a Mummy's boy," Ginny observed with a snort.

Malfoy's cheeks splotched with pink. He opened his mouth to retort, but Narcissa silenced him with a few well-chosen words before she stood up to attend to Detective Larkins. The poor guy had clearly reached his limit for the day—what, with being punched in the nose, told to shut up every time he opened his mouth, getting threatened by canaries, and dealing with such an odd case in general; it was more of a surprise that he had lasted this long. Not that Ginny cared either way. Detective Larkins was about as interesting as a rock. So, instead of sympathising with him, she took the opportunity to mouth "Mama's boy" at Malfoy while Narcissa's back was turned.

Slate-grey eyes narrowed. "Gold digger," Malfoy mouthed back.

Ginny's lips curved up at the corners. Oh-ho, so he wanted to play, did he? Well, the fight was on! She had six older brothers. She was _not_ going to lose to a spoilt, rich-kid brat like him.

So it was that while Narcissa apologised on behalf of the "fated" couple, said witch and wizard commenced in a battle of the most immature proportions. Rude names were slung, all manner of "your mum" insults were tossed back and forth, ancestors were dragged through the mud (even if they did share the same ancestry to a point, thanks to the tradition of pureblood intermarriage), and all of it was done without either of the contenders making a sound. Ginny had to admit that she was impressed Malfoy was able to keep up. His repertoire could do with some work, though.

"Did you just call me a gorilla?" Ginny demanded, unable to let that one slide. Somehow, she had ended up sitting cross-legged on the bed with him (only so she could read lip-read better, of course). "I mean _gorilla_? Really, Malfoy?"

Malfoy blinked. "What? No, I called you carrot top."

"Carrot top?" Ginny repeated, wrinkling her brow. "That's somehow even more pathetic."

"It's better than Lumos Head."

"But your hair is so luminescent-y," Ginny said with a grin, and reached out to fluff some of the silvery-blond strands. "You can be like that reindeer in the Muggle song." She put on a sing-song voice, changing the pitch for the echo parts as she sang: "Malfoy the pasty-arsed wizard, had some very shiny hair. And if you ever saw it (saw it), you might even think it's a flare (or a Lumos spell)!"

Malfoy's mouth twitched. "You're a total nut, you know that?"

Ginny's grin widened. "Just telling it like it is, Malfoy."

There was a sigh from behind them. "Are you two still bickering?"

It was Narcissa. The older woman had apparently sorted out Detective Larkins and sent him off with a final cheque. Ginny and Malfoy had been so caught up in their Insult Off that they hadn't even noticed the man's departure. Oh well. Detective Larkins had been like wallpaper anyway. What was more important to Ginny was that her work here was done.

Ginny stood up and smoothed down her uniform. "Well, I had better be going now." She saluted to Malfoy. "Don't go getting cursed again, eh? I don't want to have to reprise my role as your Knight in Shining Armour."

A dusting of pink stained his cheeks. "Just go away, Weasley."

Her eyes danced and she swept into a mock bow. "As you wish, most luminescent-y of all true loves."

Malfoy responded by throwing the pillow at her head.

Ginny cackled and dodged the pillow, then turned to face Narcissa. The older woman seemed to have lost some of her snooty reserve (at the very least, she no longer appeared to be suffering from a bad smell she could not escape). Instead, a few creases formed on Narcissa's brow and she gave Ginny a thoughtful look, as if seeing the redhead in a new light. Huh. That was unnerving.

"Um, so we're done here, right?" Ginny asked, shifting on her feet. "I mean, all I had to do was wake up Malfoy, and I've done that."

"Indeed," Narcissa said. "Please remember to uphold your end of the contract."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Ginny waved her hand airily. "Don't let anyone know I kissed Malfoy to break the curse." She laughed. "As if I would go around saying I snogged an unconscious guy in the hopes he woke up. That would just make me look like a creep."

"You are one," Malfoy called from the peanut gallery. "I feel violated just thinking about it."

Ginny poked her tongue out at him. It was only later, once she had left the manor and was banking her cheque at Gringotts, that she realised why Narcissa's expression had changed. It was because Ginny and Malfoy's insults had also changed. Tone, expression, even the words used towards each other; it had all shifted from anger and frustration to more of a—dare she even use the word— _flirtatious_ banter.

"Sweet Merlin," Ginny said, letting her Gringotts' key slip from her fingers at the same time her jaw dropped. "I was flirting with Malfoy. _Malfoy_."

This would not do at all.


	3. Chapter 3

My apologies. I had intended to expand on this story, but I decided that it would be better to focus on getting my current works in progress finished instead of dedicating my writing time to a fic like this that was already completed for the exchange. Alas, I just don't get enough free time these days to juggle several stories and fandoms at once.

And now for the final chapter …

* * *

"Ginny!"

Ginny jumped in fright and swung around to see a pretty brunette grinning at her. Perfectly coiffed hair, big hazel eyes, and an outfit that would have made the models in _Entrance_ magazine jealous. A sigh escaped the redhead's lips. Of course it had to be this witch.

"What do you want, Astoria?" Ginny asked, continuing to push her trolley down the supermarket aisle.

Astoria toddled after her in her strappy heels, designer handbag swinging at her side. "Aw, don't be like that, Ginny!" she pleaded. "And here I've been trying to find you all day!"

Ginny's left temple twitched. "Stalker."

Astoria giggled. "Maybe a little, but it's for a good purpose!"

The redhead just hunched her shoulders and kept walking, pausing only to toss the odd product into the trolley. This wasn't the first time she had been bombarded with an Astoria Attack. In fact, the sound of those heels clip-clopping along beside her had even begun to infiltrate Ginny's dreams. It was no wonder she had become so twitchy and jumpy. She couldn't seem to go anywhere without having Astoria appear and start buzzing around her like some extra fabulous, fashionista gnat.

"One of these days I'm going to get a restraining order placed on you," Ginny said grumpily. "Your stalking days will be over."

Astoria laughed and swatted Ginny on the shoulder. "Don't be silly. You will thank me for my efforts one day."

The nerve in Ginny's left temple twitched even more. "In case you haven't realised, I don't like it when people try to dictate my life for me."

"But—"

"Not even if it's written in the stars that I'm supposed to be with your ex," Ginny finished in a sour voice. "So, for the last time, leave me alone!"

Astoria pouted. "But you're destined to be together!"

Ginny made a frustrated sound and grabbed fistfuls of her hair, tugging at the red strands as if the tiny shoots of pain could ease her irritation. "What is _wrong_ with you?" she demanded. "The two of you were engaged to be married not that long ago! Why the heck do you want to set me up with him now?"

"Because you're his true love," Astoria said, as if that answered everything.

Ginny shook her head, too exhausted to keep arguing. She knew from experience that it never got her anywhere. It had been several months since she had broken Malfoy's curse with a kiss. Most of the Wizarding World was still not aware of the facts, but Astoria had been told the full story. Since then, the brunette had made it her mission to bring Ginny and Malfoy together as a couple. And it was hell.

Astoria grabbed Ginny's hands and held them within her own. "Look, I know you keep saying that you don't want to be with Draco, but if you just got to know him more—"

"Not interested," Ginny said flatly, pulling her hands away.

Astoria huffed and stamped her foot. "Why are you both making this so difficult? Your true love is right in front of you and neither of you are even making an effort."

Ginny's mouth twitched. "Oh-ho, so Malfoy is being just as stubborn, is he?"

The brunette's eyes narrowed in remembrance. "He put wards up around his flat so that I couldn't get in. I only wanted him to ask you out on a date, but he said that if I kept pestering him about it, he would send me a pickled gherkin every day for the rest of my life."

A crease formed on Ginny's brow. "A pickled gherkin?"

Astoria shuddered. "Horrible green things with their slimy little bodies, and—" she broke off. "Uh, I mean, it's nothing. Just Draco's silly idea of a joke."

Ginny stared. Wow. Gherkin phobia. That was unexpected.

Astoria fidgeted with her bag. "Anyway, I was trying to find you so I could give you this." She offered a sealed envelope to the redhead. "Please accept it."

"What is—gyah!"

Magic sizzled through Ginny's fingers the moment she touched the envelope, followed by a sharp tug in her navel. The damn thing was a Portkey.

"ASTORIA!" Ginny shrieked.

But it was too late. The magic had done its work, and Ginny was already beginning to vanish. The last thing she saw was Astoria waving and telling her that she would finish up the grocery shopping and deliver everything to the redhead's flat. Then the supermarket disappeared and Ginny landed with a thump on something warm and solid. Something that had silvery-blond hair, pale skin, and—

"Kyah!"Ginny pulled her hands away from what was unmistakably a man's bare chest. "Malfoy!"

Malfoy groaned and shoved her off him. "The hell, Weasley?"

Ginny's cheeks burned. He was only wearing a towel. He was only wearing a towel and his hair was all wet and dripping little droplets down his body, and—oh gods!

"A-Astoria!" Ginny stammered, holding up the envelope. "Ambushed. Supermarket—" her voice jumped an octave when he stood up, giving her the full view of his (very, very nice) body. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Portkey!"

Malfoy heaved a sigh. "Damn that little idiot. I told her to stop meddling." When Ginny just continued to sit there with her eyes screwed shut, he leaned forward and flicked her in the forehead. "Oi, stop acting like a nutcase and get up."

Ginny's eyes snapped open. "Towel!" she squeaked.

There was an awkward pause. Malfoy shifted his gaze from her ever-reddening cheeks to the towel that had been (mercifully) wrapped around his waist to cover his male bits. A snort escaped his lips.

"I never pegged you for a prude," he said. "Don't you have a billion brothers or something? This can't be the first time you've seen a half-dressed male."

Her blush darkened. "You—I'm just—it's just—" She made a frustrated sound, even as heat spread in waves to the tips of her ears. "Gah, you're not my brother! It's just different, okay?"

Malfoy chuckled. "Clearly."

Ginny let out a little moan of horror. "This is so embarrassing." She placed her head in her hands, hiding her face from view. "Just go put some clothes on, you towel-loving exhibitionist!"

The smell of soap and shampoo came closer. "Ah, but this is my flat, Weasley," he murmured in her ear, "and you were the one who intruded."

Her whole body quivered. She could _feel_ how close he was to her.

"So," he continued, placing his hands on her shoulders, "I'm going to have to ask you to do something for me."

Her breath hitched. She lowered her hands to peep at his face, even as her heart spazzed out of control in a pounding rhythm. "What's that?" she asked.

Malfoy's expression went flat. "Get out."

Ginny blinked. "Eh?"

He stepped back from her and straightened to his full height. "I'm telling you to leave, Weasley." A smirk flittered across his lips. "What did you think I was going to say?"

Colour bloomed on her cheeks. "N-nothing!"

Stupid git making her so flustered. She stood up and raised her chin, all prepped to stride past him with all the haughty dignity she could muster. Except she skidded on the envelope she had dropped, which then made her lose her balance, which then made her fall into Malfoy. Again.

Ginny's heart thudded against her ribs. For a moment neither of them moved. His arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her against him so that she could feel every hard plane of his body. So toned. So very male. Little droplets from his hair landed on her cheek, her mouth. She licked her lips and raised her eyes to his face.

"Malfoy," she said in a small voice.

"Mm?"

"I thought you wanted me to leave."

"I do," he said.

She swallowed. "Then why are you still holding me?"

His arm tightened around her a fraction. "I don't know," he admitted.

All the air vanished from her lungs. Such honesty. It was almost as if he had reached inside her own heart, peeling back the layers of pettiness and excuses to uncover the truth she had tried so hard to deny: this man was her true love. Blood pounded in her ears, through her veins, making her whole body throb. She wanted him to move closer. She wanted him to let her go. She was all upside down and confused; the only constant thing was the rapid beating of her heart. It told her to stop thinking. It told her to act.

"Oh, to hell with it," Ginny muttered.

She leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. Soft. Yielding. Insistent. Kissing him was a contradiction of surrender and dominance. His hands wove through her hair, angling her face more to his liking. She traced the seam of his lips with her tongue, teasing him into opening his mouth to her. It was a push and pull of passion, of velvet caresses and dizzying touches that had her toes curling in pleasure.

She definitely did not feel like she was kissing a dead fish.

Malfoy pulled back when the need for oxygen became too much and rested his forehead against hers. "Wow."

"I know," Ginny said, still trying to catch her breath. "That was way better than the first time."

He snorted. "Well, obviously, since I was unconscious."

Ginny poked him in the chest. "Don't get too full of yourself, Malfoy. You're still a pasty-arsed git."

"And you're still a carrot top," he said, tugging on a strand of her red hair.

"At least I'm not a Lumos Head."

"No, just a gorilla."

She giggled. "I can't believe you remember that. You're so lame, Malfoy."

His mouth twitched. "You know, I think we're a little past surnames now, Ginny. You don't have to keep calling me 'Malfoy'."

Pink spread across her cheeks. The way he said her name sounded very nice. "I suppose you're right, Mal—Draco."

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her again. Ginny closed her eyes and let the magic happen. She didn't know if there would be a happily ever after for them like the fairy tales said was meant to happen when a person found their true love. After all, this wasn't the end of her story: it was just one point in what she hoped was a long continuum. There were still so many other things she wanted. To become an international Quidditch star, to be independent and successful, and to eat lots of blueberry chocolate muffins.

Ginny grinned. Well, those things were bound to happen eventually. Constant perseverance and all that. For now, she'd just enjoy the moment. It wasn't so bad having Draco Malfoy as her true love, even if he was a pasty-arsed git.

* * *

OMAKE

* * *

The sound of heavy cloth hit the ground.

Ginny froze. "Your towel just fell off, didn't it?"

"Uh, yeah."

…

* * *

THE END


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